Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“Darcy, you have opinions on everything. But today, when I take you shopping to get your opinions on décor, you are suddenly silent?” Blythe’s exasperation rang loud and clear, cutting into Darcy’s fixation on her phone.
“And since when are you so dialed-in? Other than the Juliet feud, you’ve never been obsessed with being on your phone the way you’ve been this past week. ”
Darcy put her phone face-down on the table in front of her. “I already told you my thoughts within the first twenty minutes of us being here. I don’t have any further opinions on patio furniture beyond what I already said.”
Her sister narrowed her eyes at her, obviously suspicious.
Darcy held her gaze, though, because that was the truth.
Blythe was now in full-steam ahead mode, preparing to close on the house in a couple of weeks. And the first thing she and Colton wanted to do was throw a party when they officially owned the house, so Blythe was preparing now by ordering the patio and lawn furniture.
They were at Ron’s Lawns (Furniture and More!), the largest supply store there was in Pineford, and they’d been here for over an hour.
At first, Darcy had walked around with Blythe, looking at the patio furniture set ups, giving her opinions. Emerson had followed diligently, offering – once, quietly – her thoughts as well.
But the thing about Blythe was that even though they now had the money to pay for whatever she might want, her sister would never agree to pay the sticker price on something like this.
She wanted to see every model of what she was interested in, and she wanted to discuss specs, and she wanted to haggle the price down, with a will forged of iron and a smile that looked like an old-fashioned movie star.
And that was great for her.
But Darcy and Emerson were now both seated at one of the displays in the middle of the store, as Blythe worked with Ron Junior, who they’d all gone to high school with.
“I’ll add on, though, this set right here?” She gestured at the seats and table she and Emerson were at, before pressing her index finger and thumb together to symbolize the a-okay. “Super comfy. I’m turning into a big fan.”
Blythe narrowed her eyes into a glare, before she flicked her gaze down and took in the furniture display they were sitting at with a considering frown.
“RJ, what material is that? Is that teak?” Blythe asked, turning back to Ron Junior.
She breathed out a laugh for the poor soul. Then her phone vibrated and her heart dropped, through to the bottom of her stomach.
Without pause, she reached forward and snatched it up from the table.
Only to relax when she saw that the headline popping up was about Juliet endorsing something from one of her stepfather’s businesses. Nothing about Darcy.
She managed a deep breath, dropping her phone to her lap.
Emerson softly cleared her throat. “You know… Blythe isn’t wrong. You’ve been really, ah, attached to your phone the last few days, since you got back from Nashville?”
Darcy felt her pulse skitter, and she tightly pressed her lips together as she glanced around.
It wasn’t very busy at Ron’s Lawns, and the best thing about being in Pineford was that they were treated normally in their hometown.
Sometimes things got a little weird, but most of the people who lived here had known them their whole lives.
Most of the people here knew them when they were performing at the bowling alley or other open mics in the area.
They didn’t have to worry about going to a store and being mobbed or facing dozens of paparazzi. Hell, they were hours away from any major city, so if a pap was lurking around here, they stuck out like a sore thumb.
Still, though, they weren’t alone.
Blythe and RJ were standing only feet away, talking about teak versus resin wicker.
It had been such a weight on her shoulders, though, stressing about this on her own.
Wondering what could be coming down. She wanted to tell Emerson, if only to get it off her chest. Maybe she even owed it to her.
If We, The Romantics had a downward spiral because of her sexuality, it was entirely on Darcy’s shoulders.
Well, she’d owe an explanation and the apology of a lifetime – the likes of which she couldn’t even imagine – to both Emerson and Blythe. But, first, her sister didn’t yet know her sexuality. Second, now was certainly not the time to tell her, lest she freak out in Ron’s Lawns.
Darcy – 7:21P.M.
DON’T REACT OUTWARDLY
She looked back up at Emerson, pointedly darting her eyes at her phone to silently tell her friend to check her texts.
Emerson frowned, but complied. So, Darcy unburdened herself.
Darcy – 7:22P.M.
I accidentally kind of came out to Juliet after we worked on our song. And then she might have hit on me????????
Emerson’s phone clattered to the table, her jaw hanging open.
“I said don’t react!” Darcy hissed.
“Should I have brought coloring books for you two or something?” Blythe called over.
“Coloring books!” Emerson echoed back, still staring wide-eyed at the text Darcy had sent her.
Darcy was pretty sure her best friend meant to scoff and sound like Blythe’s suggestion was silly, but she instead sounded flustered and unsure, her voice pitched louder than usual.
“Um… I’d been joking, but–”
“Ha, good joke,” Darcy cut her sister off before she could press further or come to investigate what was going on. Hopefully Ron Junior was giving her some good info on outdoor supplies to keep her occupied, while Darcy had to do damage control with Emerson.
Maybe it would be good practice for Juliet damage control.
She yanked her seat closer to Emerson’s, until they clanged together, and she reached out to grip her best friend’s wrist, recapturing her attention.
“How could I not react?!” Emerson asked, her voice blessedly in a whisper, as she whipped her head to face Darcy, her eyes wide and searching. “Is Juliet – what do you mean?”
“I don’t, ugh,” Darcy broke off, groaning as she scrubbed her hands over her face, roughly. “I don’t know. I came out, and that was stupid. I wasn’t thinking. It just… happened.”
What a terrible, lame excuse for the potential downfall of the career she’d spent a decade trying to break into.
And yet, it was all she had.
“Okay, fine,” Emerson waved that off. Bless her. She seemed far too preoccupied with, “But she hit on you?”
At a loss, Darcy tossed her hands in the air before they dropped to her lap. “I really don’t fucking know. She came into the bathroom. Took her shirt off. And told me to kiss her.”
“What?!” Emerson absolutely would have screamed, Darcy knew it, if she wasn’t breathless from shock.
“I know!” Because Darcy got it. She couldn’t blame Emerson for looking like she was going to drop to the floor, because every time she thought about their interaction, she felt that way, too.
And she did think about it.
A lot.
Daily.
Multiple times a day.
Why did Juliet do it? Just to antagonize her? To get some dirt on her? Would she go so far as to invite Darcy to kiss her? Had it been some sort of fucked up test? Had Darcy passed? Had she failed?
And, most of all, she hated that every single time she replayed it in her mind, she felt hot all over. Her blood pulsed through her veins faster, her stomach swooped low.
It shouldn’t be arousing to her. Because, frankly, it was terrifying. Juliet having this knowledge was DEFCON 1. She’d already barely been able to sleep, before, and now it was even worse.
She had her phone alerts turned right back on, making sure she knew every time Juliet surfaced in the media. So far, Juliet hadn’t said anything about her at all. Not about her sexuality, not about their duet. Silence.
And amid this anxiety? Darcy was turned on.
Fucked up. Beyond fucked up.
“Why?” Emerson finally asked, when she seemed to regain function.
“I have no idea,” she admitted, falling heavily back into her chair, dropping her head back. “I just keep waiting for her to say something or do something, and…”
She exhaled shakily, not even sure how to finish the thought.
Darcy didn’t really know what the future held, when it came to her sexuality. Maybe at some point, she would want to come out. But she knew for damn sure she wanted it on her terms, not Juliet’s.
Emerson was silent for a few seconds, before she nodded in thought. “But she hasn’t said anything yet. And it’s been a week.”
“Right.” The wariness settled through Darcy’s very bones. “Maybe she’s lying in wait, though. Juliet isn’t stupid. Maybe this is leverage. Maybe – oh!”
She jerked upright as the thought hit her, and she felt like a total idiot for not seeing it sooner.
“The duet,” she said, simply, in explanation.
Emerson lifted her eyebrows, silently asking her for more.
“She really wants to be on Shelby’s album.
Even more than I did.” It had been fascinating to see that facet of Juliet, the part that honestly yearned for something.
“But Copper Canyon was pretty firm that she couldn’t do it if we weren’t dueting.
So, she’s going to wait until everything is tied up with the album, to make sure there’s no backlash. ”
It was the only explanation she could think of that was even moderately logical.
Emerson’s eyes were narrowed, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “It just seems really far for her to go. The stripping in the bathroom and stuff,” she elaborated as if Darcy didn’t realize that. “When all she needed was you coming out to her. Which you already had.”
She groaned again, painfully. “Yeah, she pushed it basically as far as humanly possible.”
It had felt real. Juliet’s heat, the unfazed movement of it all – it had felt very real. But how could she really decipher that?
Emerson’s lips were pursed to the side, deep in thought, before she asked, “So… what now?”
“What now is that I go to Shelby’s dinner party next week and figure out what Juliet’s deal is,” Darcy stated, rolling her shoulders back as if preparing to go to battle.
In a way, she was. Right?
“Darcy, Emerson, you can stop lazing on the lawn furniture now as if you’re mannequins on display. RJ and I have reached a deal,” Blythe informed them, her tone the embodiment of victory.
Emerson turned to look at Blythe, before returning her stare to Darcy. “Hey, if Juliet publicly outs you, you could probably sic Blythe on her. Retail Blythe is terrifying.”
Darcy breathed out a dark laugh. “Tell me about it; I’ve been going to yard sales with her my whole life.”
She stood up, unable to stop herself from checking her phone again before tucking it in her back pocket.
Nothing. For now.
And instead of making her feel better, it only made the anxious knots in her stomach tighten. Something had to be coming. Had to.